London Poem: Day 355

7 August

The wild trudge is wrapped in darkness,
Climbing continuously until fatigue
Sets in and the road runs out.
The gentle curve folds into itself;
The tiny peek of daylight sniffing
Out the night chases the young ones
To bed with a stumble.
Before, curiously, narrow squinted
Eyes pry through little branches in
The darkening night, and life became,
Or so it seems, a quaint twinkly
In the tiny cat’s eyes reflecting
Down from on high.


Published by


In flux

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s